It was hot, blistering hot, the sun seemed to be inside the earth’s atmosphere, pounding her inhabitants with unrelenting heat.
The A/C unit in Rescue 1 was useless, I was miserable, my partner was miserable, everybody was miserable.
Everybody but Dan Rinaldi.
We pulled our overheated
truck onto the ramp at Washington Street, I forget why now, probably to complain to The Chief about something or other, and there he was, Special Hazards 1 on the ramp, half the equipment pulled out of the compartments, saws running. hydraulic tools ready to be tested, and a bucket of soapy water waiting.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Going over the truck,” he responded.
I had just started my 22nd year on the fire department and knew everything. Dan was a year senior to me.
He pulled the cord and started a generator. I looked at the cement in front of him, tucked in my shirt, got back in my truck, hit the mic and said, “Rescue 1 in service.”
Thank you Dan.